


Unorthodox

by hyunwoo



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M, Priest!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-11 05:43:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10456590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyunwoo/pseuds/hyunwoo
Summary: Junmyeon hates going to church. Or, rather, he hated going to church. But now, Junmyeon wasn't even sure if he should have blessed his mom or damned her for making them sit so close to the front because Junmyeon was getting an eyeful. He found himself staring at the man's lips, rosy and a little chapped, the lower lip thicker than upper, and caught himself thinking of all the things it could do to him, how perfect it would look stretched around his cock.





	

Junmyeon hates going to church. Or, rather, he hated going to church. So when his mother dragged him to the mass, Junmyeon was less than enthused. The hymns practically put him to sleep, but when the sermon started up, he quickly perked up. Now, Junmyeon wasn't even sure if he should have blessed his mom or damned her for making them sit so close to the front because Junmyeon was getting an eyeful. The deacon looked rather young in deacon's terms. He was probably in his late-twenties; not the wrinkled, nearly-blind guy that Junmyeon had expected to lead this whole thing. He was handsome, pale and white immaculate skin, short dark hair like the night sky and soft eyes. And his voice--God, his fucking voice. It was nearly pornographic, sexy but sweet, and his accent was shaking Junmyeon to his core. He found himself staring at the man's lips, rosy and a little chapped, the lower lip thicker than upper, and caught himself thinking of all the things it could do to him, how perfect it would look stretched around his cock.

 

By the second reading, Junmyeon was already pitching a rather embarrassing tent. When mass finally ended, Junmyeon wasn't sure if he was relieved or upset, but he was definitely frustrated. He got up with his mother, but of course, she had to make a bee-line straight for the hot deacon, which meant he had no choice but to follow her.

 

“Excuse me, Deacon,” his mother said bowing, smiling gently. “I’ve been wanting to ask about Deacon Choi since you told he’s going to be away for a few weeks. I attend this church for years and Deacon Choi was never absent. Is he sick?”

 

“Oh, good morning mistress,” the deacon bowed back. “I’m Deacon Zhang. Deacon Choi is doing very well. He was invited to a very prestigious bishop preparation course in Vaticano. While he’s away, as his deacon, I’ll take care of his diocese. I hope there’s no problem.”

 

“Oh no, it’s really good to have such a fresh face,” Mrs. Kim praised. “You sure do look very young to be a deacon. I used to wish my little Junmyeon to follow the path of God, to attend all the masses, or even become an altar boy like my oldest son, but he's a lost cause.”

 

“Ma’am, this is something only your son can choose,” the deacon said, now looking with those soft brown eyes towards Junmyeon. “When you force it, the faith is not pure. You have to feel touched by the lightness and the Holy Spirit,” Deacon Zhang said, but all Junmyeon heard was white noise, his eyes focusing on the man’s pink thick lips. God, they’d look so good peppering kisses down his neck...

 

Well, after Deacon Zhang, Junmyeon felt touched not only by the Holy Spirit but also for the Devil.

  
 

\---

  
 

"Deacon Choi called and he said he will be staying a week longer than planned," the oldest Kim informed, and the deacon nodded.

 

"Thank you," he dragged his gaze up to Junmyeon, raising a brow. "Oh, I definitely know you. What’s your name?"

 

"Junmyeon. He’s my brother," the oldest was quick to reply, holding out his hand. He flashed a charming smile, and when the deacon bowed, Junmyeon might have stared at him a little longer than usual. “Deacon, there’s no way you know him because he has never shown up--”

 

"It's nice to see you here again, Junmyeon. I’m glad you decided to show up again since that day your mother mentioned you were not interested in the church."

 

"Oh, no. I'm definitely interested now," Junmyeon replied with a sideways grin. “I was actually hoping to learn more about this whole thing.”

 

“Oh, really?” Yixing asked, and the smile on his lips was definitely not helping Junmyeon control himself. “That’s wonderful. If there’s anything I can do to help, please do not hesitate to ask.”

 

“There're a few things you could help me with, actually,” he replied, knowing his brother was giving him a look for using that tone and took just a half-step forward. “I wanna learn all about this… Stuff. Do you have office hours or something? Sometime I could stop by and you could teach me a few things?”

 

“Tuesday nights, I am always here from seven to… Well, rather late, studying theology. You could come then if you’d like.”

 

And if Deacon Yixing knew all the dirty, awful, amazing ways that Junmyeon was taking that sentence, he didn’t show it.

 

“Awesome. I’ll see you then.”

  
 

\---

  
 

“Junmyeon, you can’t flirt with a deacon.”

 

Junmyeon feigns shock, knocked out of the half-baked fantasy that was playing in his head. He sets his fork down on the plate and puts a hand over his heart. “I would never do that! Honestly, hyung, it hurts that you think I would.”

His brother looks rather unimpressed, shaking his head. “Junmyeon, I’m older than you and definitely not stupid. You cannot flirt with the clergy, let alone hit on him. Deacon Yixing is a really nice guy.”

 

“Hey, if he’s willing, I don’t see the problem. Not that I’m looking to get anything except knowledge towards the Holy Bible.”

 

“You’re a horrible liar, Junmyeon. You know that.”

 

Junmyeon grins in response and gives a noncommittal shrug. “He’s got a fine ass, though, you’ve gotta admit.”

 

“Junmyeon. Gross.”

 

\---

 

When he goes to visit Deacon Yixing, the man opens the door with a smile.

 

“Hello, Junmyeon. It’s nice to see you again.”

 

It’s only been two days, and, damn, how he’s missed that voice. Junmyeon walks into the small office, and lets loose a long, low whistle at all the books.

 

“You read all these?” he asks, gesturing around with his finger.

 

“Most of them, yes,” Yixing nods and watches as Junmyeon walks around the room, goes behind the desk, takes his time gazing at the office’s many oddities. “You can have a sit.”

 

Junmyeon looks at the chair and considers sitting like a good boy, but instead, he tiptoes next to the deacon, looking him up and down for a moment before reaching forward to gently tap the white square of the man’s collar. He watches Deacon Yixing’s eyes widen slightly and the light flush that seems to spread like a fire from where his finger presses.

 

“What’s the deal with this _white thing_?” he asks, dipping his index finger into the collar.

 

Deacon Yixing clears his throat and walks backwards, reaching up to adjust the collar slightly. “It is a clerical collar. It’s a symbol of clerical dress,” he replies sharply. “It’s also very disrespectful to refer to it as ‘ _white thing_ ’.”

 

“Sorry,” Junmyeon shrugs. “Didn’t mean to offend,” he glances back to the desk which is covered in books and papers. “Were you working on something?

 

“Oh, uh, yes,” the other nods. He makes to move past Junmyeon, but the young man doesn’t make room for him, forcing their fronts to slide across each other. Junmyeon subtly adjusts his hips so that their crotches briefly rub together, and he has to suppress a grin when he watches the man turn pink. Yixing goes to sit down at his desk, but Junmyeon remains standing, peering down. “I was reading up on angelology. It’s, quite interesting.”

 

“Really?” Junmyeon slides in behind Deacon Yixing and bends over so that his cheek nearly brushes the deacon’s. “Looks interesting,” Junmyeon reaches over the other’s shoulder to press his finger to a word on the page. Anael. He can hear the older swallow. “I don’t know if it’s pure coincidence, but I’ve been studying angels too. Anael is the angels who reigns love, passion, and sexuality, am I right?”

 

“Uh, yes. He’s one of the seven archangels.”

 

Junmyeon gives an interested hum and knows how his breath escapes him and ghosts over the other’s neck. Suddenly, he pulls away and goes to the other side of the desk, taking a seat in the leather chair. “If you’re gonna teach me, I might as well sit down and take a few notes, right?”

 

Deacon Yixing nods, exhaling and seeming much more relaxed now. He pulls out a notepad and grabs a pen from a coffee cup with some Bible verse on it and hands them to Junmyeon. The younger takes them graciously, then crosses one leg over the other to make a sort of a support.

 

“So, Xing, where do we start?” Junmyeon asks, popping the cap off the pen. He hears Yixing take a breath to say something, but it stops as soon as he puts the top of the pen in his mouth, looking up innocently. He can see the way the deacon’s eyes dart to his lips and concentrate for a few moments, and it makes him a little giddy on the inside, watching the man swallow and toy with his collar like it’s gotten too tight.

 

“Deacon Yixing,” he corrects, and finally brings his gaze to match Junmyeon’s. “Always address me as ‘Deacon’.”

 

“Well, can I at least call you Deacon Xing? It sounds better. Less of a mouthful. Besides, your name is kind of hard to pronounciate.”

 

“Uh, yes. I guess, I suppose that is sufficient.”

 

Junmyeon manages to make Yixing turn red twelve times in an hour. The second time he only does it ten, but on his third visit, he gets a record; seventeen blushes. It’s rather simple, too, just subtle things that Junmyeon does. He’ll go to move by the deacon and make sure he brushes the man’s ass with his arm. He’ll stand too close, chew on his pen looking directly into his eyes, stretch in a way that shows off a sliver of pale skin between the hem of his shirt and the top of his jeans. He learns quickly that most suggestive comments go straight over the man’s head, so he gives up on those pretty quickly, only ever making one when it’s too perfect an opportunity to pass up.

 

He learns a lot about Deacon Yixing, though. Honestly, Junmyeon couldn’t give a fuck about the actual religion stuff. And, of course, Junmyeon doesn’t care that Yixing’s favorite food in Korea is jjajangmyeon and that he loves cheesy movies or that when he was younger he liked to dance.

 

And Junmyeon definitely isn’t growing attached, because this is something that’s just supposed to be—is only going to be—a fling, a flirtatious encounter, maybe a steamy make-out in the confession booth before Yixing decides to never see each the younger again. So becoming fond over this completely cute and clueless dude was completely ridiculous and out of the question.

 

On their fourth meeting, Junmyeon’s probably feeling a little too confident, especially with a whole truckload of repressed feelings fueling him. His brother has been giving him a lot of shit for going to church just to flirt with a deacon, I’m pretty sure that’s a one-way ticket to hell, his brother said, but Junmyeon doesn’t care. After all, he can tell he’s not the only enjoying their meetings. He’s caught Deacon Xing staring at his lips on more than one occasion, and even found eyes on his crotch once or twice. He’s seen the man’s tongue flick out to wet his lips in those moments, seen him fiddle with his pen and adjust awkwardly in his chair while his face turned pink. No, Junmyeon is certainly not alone in this.

 

Deacon Yixing is halfway through a lecture about hamartiology and trying to show Junmyeon versicles by tilting his Bible towards him. Junmyeon doesn’t pass up the opportunity and stands up, says he can’t read well and puts his hands on the back of the deacon’s chair, leaning forward, nearly brushing their cheeks together as he peers at the computer screen.

 

“These are… This is an ancient painting of…” Deacon Xing begins but seizes up when one of Junmyeon’s hands slides to his shoulder, then travels a little further down to his chest. For a moment, Junmyeon doesn’t think he’s going to protest, but finally, the deacon finds his voice and says sharply, “Junmyeon! Stop.”

 

Reluctantly, he sighs and stands up while Deacon Yixing spins around in his chair to face him. He looks almost angry, especially with the red that’s creeping up from under his collar. Quickly, the man stands, and the younger one is only too aware of how close they are.

 

“Junmyeon, I was willing to let…  Things like that slide. However, I can no longer allow you to continue your attempts at… Making advances on me.”

 

Yixing’s obviously trying to sound strong, but his voice wavers as he speaks, and he stumbles over his words. The grin that overtakes Junmyeon’s face is downright wolfish, and he steps closer so that they’re just inches from touching. His eyes travel up the body of the deacon, eating him out, and he watches him shiver under his gaze.

 

“You think _that_ was making an advance on you?” Junmyeon asks quietly, and he slips a none-too-subtle hand between them to cup the older man, palming at the erection he knew would be there. A choked whimper forces itself from Yixing’s throat, and he puts his hands on Junmyeon’s chest. “ _This_ is me making an advance.”

 

He grabs the deacon roughly by the waist and steps in. Junmyeon almost kisses him, but ducks down instead and mouths at his neck, just above the collar. There’s a harsh whimper from Yixing as his fingers dig into the fabric of the man’s shirt, uncertain whether to pull him closer or push him away.

 

“Junmyeon…” Yixing murmurs, and it’s better than anything the young man could have imagined. How many times had he holed up in his bedroom, thinking about that voice gasping and moaning his name while he jerked himself to orgasm... “I can’t.”

 

Deacon Yixing makes a weak attempt at pushing Junmyeon away, but stills when Junmyeon kneads the bulge in his pants. The deacon bites his lip and releases a choked moan, and he pulls hard at the lapels of Junmyeon’s sweater. Junmyeon smiles and nips at the flesh, enjoying every single sound that the deacon makes.

 

Junmyeon uses the hand on the man’s waist to lead him over to a clear space on the wall and push him up against it. He slides a thigh between Yixing’s legs and ruts against him. The man lets his head roll back against the wall and Junmyeon can’t help but to admire, the expanse of pale white skin, Yixing’s swallowing hard. Junmyeon doesn’t know if he should be surprised, but the sudden feeling of slender fingers under his sweater, stroking at his ribs and chest makes him shiver. He’s sure his eyes have gone dark as rakes over Yixing’s figure, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips. Junmyeon grunts in appreciation before he pushes their bodies together, finally letting their lips meet in a clash of teeth and skin. The deacon responds rather meekly, as if unsure of what to do or maybe regretful, but the younger press harder, his tongue tracing the seam of his lips and then Yixing finds a rhythm and lets his mouth move with the roll of his hips. Yixing’s hands bunch in the fabric at the small of the man’s back and pull him closer, and he gasps quietly when their crotches come in contact.

 

“So unfair,” Junmyeon purrs. There’s just a fraction of space between their lips as he smooths his hands down the deacons’ sides, untucking the clerical shirt so that he can slide his fingers beneath it. He’s surprised to find light muscle rippling beneath the skin with each heavy, panting breath, ribs expanding and contracting. “So, so hot… Perfect cock sucking lips…” the younger man murmurs, pressing kisses up Deacon Yixing’s jaw until he reaches his ear. Junmyeon grinds against him, feeling the deacon shudder and writhe between his body and the wall. “And a _deacon_. So unfair to me.”

 

Yixing bites back a moan when Junmyeon sets a steady pace, rubbing their bodies together. A feral grin spreads over the silver haired face as he moves his lips back down to the collar, biting at the flesh just above it.

 

“But you’ll let me use you, won’t you, Yixing?” Junmyeon smirks, assured of his victory as the deacon pulls him closer and grinds against him.

 

“Yes… Yes, Junmyeon...” Yixing’s voice trembles with every word. He sounds fucked-out already, and if it wasn’t for the erection pressed tight against his thigh, Junmyeon would think the man had already come.

 

Junmyeon runs his hands up the man’s torso until they brush the collar. Yixing goes still when, and he stops breathing for just a moment. The younger man’s never really seen anything like this, so he searches desperately for a way to get it off. After a frustrating moment, the deacon reaches up and helps him detach it from the shirt, pulling the strip of plastic off and throwing it to the floor.

 

The moment Junmyeon’s hands are upon him, running over the beautiful expanse of pale skin and muscles, Yixing arches into the touches and leans his head back against the wall, closing his eyes. Junmyeon covers the deacon’s neck and shoulders in hungry kisses, biting and sucking harshly at the skin below the collar, leaving a trail of little red marks.

 

“So,” Junmyeon begins, licking the junction where Yixing’s neck meets his shoulder. He feels the shiver that runs down the older’s spine. “What about you get on your knees but not for praying?” Junmyeon couldn’t, he couldn’t let this pass, and he’s not sure of what to make from the noise, the growl that comes from the other’s throat. For a moment he thinks Yixing regained his senses, that the man is about to shove him away and tell him that this was just a slip, but his internal monolog is cut off when the deacon pushes him back against the wall and then literally falls to his knees. His hands clutch at Junmyeon’s belt, tugging on it anxiously before undoing the buckle with clumsy fingers. The silver-haired laughs aloud, this time, grinning down at the deacon almost endearingly.

 

“So eager,” he says, and his voice is almost soft. He reaches down and threads his fingers into the mess of dark hair, watching Yixing’s with parted lips just inches from the head of his cock. “If I’d known you were gonna be so hungry for my cock, I would’ve done this sooner.”

 

He raises his eyebrows at the look Yixing shoots him: mildly irritated and definitely impatient. It just makes Junmyeon flash a sideways grin, though, because damn if this wasn’t going perfectly. He runs his fingers through the deacon’s hair and musses it before he reaches down and grabs his chin, forcing the man to look up.

 

“You want it, don’t you?” Junmyeon purrs, grabbing his smearing the precome on Yixing’s lower lip. The deacon only nods, his eyes pleading, pleading, he wants it so much.

 

It takes a moment for Yixing to get started. As eager to please as he seems, he must take a moment to look everything over and edge Junmyeon’s jeans down a little further down his thighs. He wraps his hand tentatively around the shaft, giving it an experimental stroke that makes a shiver run down both their backs. Slim fingers run through the thick, hard length, and Junmyeon threads his fingers hardens into the deacon’s hair.

 

He’s not prepared for when the man’s lips brush over the underside of his cock, and he tastes the skin. The way that Yixing grabs him, the way he gingerly slides the shaft into his mouth and stroke what he can fit, the way he sucks—everything about it is incredibly inexperienced. Junmyeon’s had received blowjobs far better than Yixing’s. But there’s something about the entire situation that has him completely on edge. He keeps thinking about how beautiful Yixing is, the fact that this man is not only older than him but also a member of the clergy and they are in a _church_.

 

“Fuck, Xing…” Junmyeon murmurs, running his hand down Yixing’s nape.

 

Yixing stops briefly at the sensation of light, feather-like fingers in his neck—Junmyeon noticed how sensible this area is—but quickly returns to Junmyeon, running his tongue over the young man’s length and sucking.

Junmyeon whispers dirty words, compliments, _fuck Yixing it’s so good, you’re so good on your knees like that_ , torn between closing his eyes and memorizing the vision of the man between his legs. When he feels a familiar heat coiling in the pit of his belly, he buries a hand in Yixing’s hair and grips tight to pull his head back. A slick pop fills the room, and the deacon’s panting is enough to send Junmyeon’s control outer space. He takes his cock in his hand, squeezing, stroking, twisting. Deacon Yixing closes his eyes just before strings of white spill across his face. Junmyeon comes biting his lower lip, choking back the cry that tries to rip through his throat.

 

As he recovers, the hand in Yixing’s hair loosens. Junmyeon sighs quietly, then peers down at the deacon between his legs. The man’s face is blank, and he reaches up to pass his thumb across his cheekbone, wiping away the come that sticks to the skin. He stares at the man for a moment; face covered in cum, dark hair mussed and lips red and swollen, and God, he’s so beautiful.

 

“Sin looks good on you,” Junmyeon chuckles. He gently pushes Yixing back against the wall again and leans in to run his tongue over a line of come that caught his neck, swallowing it down. “Tastes good, too.”

 

Yixing moans, clutching, clawing at Junmyeon’s shoulder, but Junmyeon, however, quickly grabs the man’s wrists and pins them above his head, managing to keep them securely fastened to the wall with just one hand.

 

“Junmyeon… Please,” he grunts and Junmyeon presses his other hand to the deacon’s bare stomach so that his hips thrust uselessly into the air.

 

The younger man leans forward to press kisses against Yixing’s cheeks and chin. “You’re awfully vague, you know that?” he grunts between them. “When you want something you need to be a bit more… Specific?”

 

Yixing gives a frustrated noise and turns his head to force their lips to clash. His mouth is unforgiving and rough, completely dominating Junmyeon’s with clashing teeth and tongue. One of his legs swings to wrap around Junmyeon’s, pushing hard at the back of his knee and forcing him to stumble closer and catch himself on the wall. Their chests are flush now, and Junmyeon appears pleasantly surprised. Yixing, on the other hand, looks like he’s barely holding himself on his feet. He grinds against Junmyeon, and the younger man hisses, still much too sensitive in the aftermath of his own orgasm. Deacon Yixing’s hands are now free, and while Junmyeon takes a moment to breathe, the deacon works off the younger man’s clothes, finally taking off his sweater and shirt, and Junmyeon opens his mouth to say something, but the man quiets him with a forceful kiss and digs his fingers into his hips. The silver-haired slides a hand down to Yixing’s crotch, feeling him through the layers of fabric, and the deacon’s breath hitches and he stills, nails digging deeper into the other’s hips. Junmyeon can feel where the man’s cock strains against the fabric, the wet spot where the head rubs and drips. He slowly kneads at it, a cocky grin on his face as he watches Yixing rutting between the wall and his hand.

 

“This what you want?” he asks quietly. The deacon clasps his mouth shut, but it can only muffle a long groan. He nods his head, and Junmyeon kisses gently at his neck. “Tell me.”

 

“I don’t care what you do,” Yixing whimpers, torn between desperation and irritation. “Just fucking touch me.”

 

Junmyeon decides that’s a good enough answer for now and undoes the button and zipper. He shimmies them halfway down the man’s thighs and lets his fingers just trace over the hard lines of Yixing’s cock. The man gasps and keens at the touches, thrusting his hips in a greedy attempt to get more. Junmyeon is more than happy to oblige, smearing the precome over his palm before slowly stroking the shaft.

 

He feels Yixing practically melt beneath him, and it’s beautiful. He works slowly, tenderly, his mouth as soft as his touch. The chest against him rises and falls in quick succession and the fingers in his hips move up, scratching deep into Junmyeon’s back. One cups the back of Junmyeon’s head and guides him, eventually pulling him into a hot kiss. He murmurs something against his lips, something that Junmyeon can’t even understand, something that sounds like Mandarin and the younger doesn’t even bother because Yixing is now moaning inside his mouth.

 

He tightens his grip, quickens his stroke. He can feel himself getting hard again, and that’s a blessing because he hadn’t planned on leaving here with just a blowjob. Yixing is doing everything to keep his voice down, but he’s whining like a slut into Junmyeon’s mouth, and the younger man swallows down every sound.

 

“Ah, ah… Junmyeon,” he gasps, his face and neck flushed a beautiful shade of red. “Junmyeon, Junmyeon,” he chants as Junmyeon runs his free hand through the deacon’s hair, jerking faster, and he’s almost afraid that the man’s knees will give way and he’ll crumple to the floor. Yixing continues to babble, spilling out incoherent words as his hips stutter and try to move into Junmyeon’s hand.

 

Junmyeon can feel the change. He feels the sanity leak from the deacon, he’s about to fall apart in his hands, but Junmyeon won’t let him. No, he has better plans. When Junmyeon lets go of Yixing’s cock, the deacon’s eyes snap open, and he looks angry, so close to orgasm that it must be painful, but

Junmyeon is quick and pins him back down again.

 

“Fuck, Junmyeon,” he gasps out, and this time, he’s really putting up a fight to get out, rutting desperately against the younger for just the tiniest bit of friction. There are tears in the corner of his eyes, and he appears betrayed as he stares up into Junmyeon’s smirking face.

 

“I want you to come while I’m inside of you,” Junmyeon murmurs, pressing the words into Yixing’s mouth.

 

“Then just do it, please,” he says, and he’s so, so submissive.

 

“Bend over—and don’t touch yourself,” Junmyeon orders and he watches Yixing scramble to the desk,  trying to clear a space on the heavily cluttered surface, not even questioning the younger.

 

Meanwhile, Junmyeon grabs his jacket on the floor, riffling through each pocket until he finally finds the small bottle of lube that he’d brought with him for that exactly purpose. Quickly, he walks to the office door to make sure it’s locked tight. When he glances back at Yixing bent over, pliant, his cock twitches.

 

Junmyeon slicks his fingers and then trails then along his crack, Yixing hissing at the coldness but wiggling his ass, hurrying him. The younger circles the rim slowly, teasing, and Yixing’s already moaning, whining, biting his lips. Junmyeon finally breaches the muscles, surprisingly meeting little resistance. He fucks him with one finger, gingerly, caresses his back so Yixing relaxes and is left a mess and is begging for a second. The second finger slides even easier, and Junmyeon can only think about how hot and tight and wet Yixing is, how much he wants to bury himself into that heat and fuck him until he sees stars.

 

“Junmyeon, I can’t take this,” Yixing moans into the desk after a couple of minutes while Junmyeon is scissoring him open.

 

“Tell me what you want,” Junmyeon says, and he slides a third finger in. Yixing tenses. “Say it.”

 

Yixing bites his arm, and his eyes close tight, ass clenching around Junmyeon’s fingers. Yixing refuses to answer him, so Junmyeon stops and holds him still. The man beneath him whimpers and tries to push back, attempting to urge Junmyeon’s fingers to keep working him, but Junmyeon won’t budge.

 

“Say it, Xing,” and his voice is darker, lips brushing over his earlobe.

 

Yixing is silent for a moment, his legs shaking a bit, and Junmyeon hears him mumble something.

 

“I didn’t hear you.”

 

“Shit, Junmyeon,” the deacon grits out, “Fuck me.”

 

Grinning, Junmyeon rolls down a condom and grabs the bottle of lube forgotten on the floor, slicking himself down. “You don’t sound very convincing,” he purrs, stroking his cock and then guiding to Yixing’s entrance, teasing his hole with the swollen and wet head. “You’ll have to do better than that.”

 

Yixing exhales and closes his eyes, gripping the corners of the desk until his knuckles are white. “Junmyeon, please,” he chokes out, sounding on the verge of tears. “I need you, Junmyeon. Please, just fuck me. Shit, I need you inside me so bad. Please, please, only you can make me come.”

 

And there’s the trigger for Junmyeon. He has to bite down his own sound of pleasure at the blasphemies pouring from Yixing’s sweet lips, and there’s certainly no way he can resist after that. He lines himself up and is surprisingly slow as he sinks in. Yixing hisses, tightening up immediately, and Junmyeon smooths a hand over his back, gently shushing him.

 

“Relax,” he mutters. “It’s going hurt if you don’t.”

 

He waits a moment for Yixing to do so before he starts to push in again. Yixing bites his lips and clutches at the wood, nails scrapping the surface until he feels Junmyeon’s is completely buried.

 

“Fuck, Xing,” he murmurs. He puts a hand on the deacon’s hip, the other sliding up to his shoulder. “So tight.”

 

Junmyeon starts slow, shallow thrusts so Yixing can adjust to the girth inside of him, but as Yixing’s moans rise, Junmyeon fastens the pace, powerful thrusts that knock out the breath out of Yixing’s lungs.

 

“Fuck, Junmyeon, fuck,” he mutters when Junmyeon first hits his prostate, and Junmyeon can’t help but think how funny it is that a man who is so articulate and well-spoken can be reduced to just his name and profanities.

 

Biting his neck, Junmyeon speeds up, hitting the same spot over and over again, the sound of flesh hitting flesh filling the room. Yixing whines and Junmyeon pulls at the man’s hair hard, eliciting a broken moan from his throat.

 

“You don’t know how hard it’s been,” Junmyeon hisses, closing his eyes tight, “Coming here and listening to you talk about angels and versicles,” The deacon whimpers and puts both his hands flat on the desk to steady himself. Junmyeon follows, keeping his mouth latched to Yixing’s neck. “All I could think about was bending you over to fuck you. I knew you’d be a slut for my cock. Look at you,” he says and suddenly his hand closes around Yixing’s neck. “Come on, come for me,” he orders, pressing against his Adam’s apple, cutting his air supply.

 

Yixing shudders and melts under him, his cock spurting strings of white across the desk and papers and books that he hadn’t managed to move. Junmyeon doesn’t relent, now thrusting harder to chase his own release. He finishes soon after, hips stuttering and burying deep into Yixing’s. As he comes down from his orgasm, he keeps himself pressed against the deacon, his arms resting next to Yixing's. They are like that for a minute, both coming down from their respective highs, catching their breaths.

 

In the end, Junmyeon presses another kiss to the back of the man’s neck before pulling out slowly. He takes a few steps back and stretches, wandering around, looking for something they could use to clean themselves off with. He looks at one of the tapestries on the wall, made of silk and depicting some scene that Junmyeon didn’t recognize.

 

As he reaches out to grab it, Yixing’s voice grumbles, “If you touch that, I swear you’ll regret it.”

 

Junmyeon stops and whips around, smiling innocently at the deacon who is slowly pushing himself up to a standing position, flinching in the process.

 

“Regret it, huh? You got some kinky punishment you were thinking of?” Junmyeon chirps.

 

Yixing shoots him an unamused look, then turns his gaze to his desk, running a hand through his hair. After a moment, he walks over to a cabinet and pulls it open, grabbing a box of tissues and placing it on the desk. Junmyeon takes it, opening it up and wiping off his fingers and limp dick.

 

There’s silence as they clean themselves, but Junmyeon breaks the silence. “Hey, uh, just so you know, you don’t have to worry anything. I won’t tell anybody.”

 

Yixing scoffs, throwing a handful of used tissues into the trashcan next to his desk. “Such heartwarming words,” he remarks sarcastically. He turns to his desk again but decides that putting his clothes on is more important and begins shimmying into them.

 

 

“Hm,” Junmyeon’s voice is soft as he approaches. When Yixing begins to button his pants, Junmyeon steps right into his personal space. He reaches up and cups either side of the man’s face, kissing him tenderly for a long moment. “So can I come back next Tuesday?”

 

Yixing turns around immediately, looking confused. “This was a one-time thing, Junmyeon,” he says carefully, unbuttoning his collar only to fit the clerical collar back onto his neck once his shirt is on. “There are several things deeply wrong with what we just did, especially for me. If someone found out about this, I could be excommunicated. Do you understand what that means? That is being kicked out of the church, the one thing I’ve—“

 

Junmyeon steps forward and silences him with another soft kiss. “Hey, calm down. If you don’t want to this again, it’s fine. But we could have so much fun...” he can feel Yixing staring at him, and the tension is so thick that he can barely stand it. He grabs the bottle of lube from the ground and wraps it in a tissue, stuffing it into his pocket, then heads for the door.

 

As he unlocks the door, Yixing clears his throat, forcing Junmyeon to look back.

 

“Perhaps… Perhaps you could come back,” he says slowly but is quick to tack on, “But only if it is completely platonic! This… This can’t happen again. You need to understand that.”

 

Junmyeon tries to suppress his smile, even as he feels himself growing lighter. “Yeah, definitely. Completely platonic. See you at Tuesday, Xing,” he says and when he’s about to leave, he glances back at the older man. “Oh, by the way—“ he taps his cheek, “You got a little something there.”

 

The last thing he sees before he closes the door is Yixing’s face turning bright red.


End file.
